Fresh out of high school without a single clue of what I wanted to do or be in my life, I found myself looking for work.
I had given some thought to going on to college, but my steady "C" average placed limits on my options.
Barely 19 years old, it came as a shock when my father explained to me that now I paid rent if I planned to live at home.
It would have been nice to have some warning, I was still wearing my cap and gown from graduation when he informed me of that little fact.
My savings amounted to just over $28.00, I had my Chevelle that I had rebuilt and painted with my own hands, and some clothes.
I found a job packing bundles of shingles into box cars at a local mill. The pay was lousy and that job ended the day one of the sawyers clipped the end off of a finger in his big slide saw, then threw it down the chute at me, laughing.
I must have run 100 yards before I took a breath, my idea of getting "promoted" to sawyer went right out the window that day.
Especially since I took notice of all the rest of them in the lunch room, none of them had all of their fingers.
I lasted just one day planting trees for a timber company, deciding I wasn't a damn mountain Goat.
I called my Grandmother down in Vallejo, she always loved me and thought I was special. Besides, she could cook, good lord could she cook.
The next day I was loaded up and headed off for the 600 mile trip down there, figuring I had enough for food and gas to just make it.
Dad handed me a $20 bill the day I left, then he reached out and hugged me. It hit me that I didn't remember my Dad ever hugging me before.
At least not recently. My 6'1" frame almost equalled his 6'3", men didn't hug men much where I came from.
He turned away rather quickly too, but not before I spotted the tiny tear in his eye. Mom kissed me and I was off, I thought about them quite a bit as I drove.
One thing about being in Vallejo, there was not only my Grandma but several of my Uncles. My Uncle Herman worked for a mining company. I was thinking of perhaps a job there. He mentioned something about them needing a driver, the pay was $80 a trip. I blinked at that, smart enough to want to know what the catch was.
It seems the truck carried the nitro up this rough winding road along the American river. The going was slow and one had to be careful.
I thought about that for just a couple of seconds before saying no.
My other Uncle, Mel, was a State Cop. No chance at help getting work there, I needed a degree to apply. That was what gave me the idea to go to school.
The local Junior College was very low tuition. I could at least start there in the two year program, improve my grades and maybe then I could get in to a good school.
I got a job stacking boxes at a local grocery, and enrolled in classes. But even working the money wasn't enough. Grandma was on Social Security and that was it, with the books I had to buy and everything else it was obvious that I was a burden financially.
Then my Uncle Ray came by with Venora, my Mom's sister, for a visit. He worked for a hotel in Reno as the bell captain. I was surprised when he mentioned how much money he made, it was very good.
Then he looked at me and grinned.
"There is one job there that I bet you could do, good money, too!" He told me.
I was all ears.
"All you would need to do is do what comes naturally." He was grinning now.
He explained that everyone staying there was a tourist, and people liked to have someone come up to their room to give them a rubdown.
The hotel charged $50, that seemed like a lot to me. Of course the Bell captain got a share and the hotel got a share, and I would get $20 of it.
I made $12 working 8 hours at the grocery, making $20 in just one hour was huge.
One little flaw, I had no idea at all of what to do, and I told him so.
"Come by the house tonight, we will train you, it is easy." He was grinning again.
I knocked on their door that evening, with no idea of what to expect.
Ray handed me a beer, then he went into a long explanation of how many of the guests were housewifes, older women, there gor gambling. They would get sore from pulling the handles on the machines and ask for a rubdown in their room.
"All you do is go up and give them a rubdown, that's it."
"I don't know how to do one." I told him.
"We will teach you. The hotel charges the bill to their room, and you get to keep any tips, less our cut of course."
"OK. What do I do?"
"Venora!" Ray called out.
My aunt Venora walked in, she had on a fuzzy white robe. I could tell by the flash of her bare legs that that was it, too. I turned bright red, of course.
